Culture Clash
by lostloveloki
Summary: AU: Sif is Asgard's princess, and Loki is a young man coming to Asgard to study magic


The princess's locks gleamed radiant gold in the shimmering lights of the Allfather's throne room. She stood beside her mother, towering over her slightly though she was nowhere as tall as her boisterous brother standing across from her on Odin's other side, while they awaited their guests. Sif tugged at the sleeve of her itchy, silvery and overtly demure dress (which her mother had selected for her) inserting her hand under the cuff to scratch till her skin became blotchy. Frigga caught hold of Sif's hand, like she was still a little girl, smiling just a little sternly.

"Do not forget your good etiquette, Sif. First impressions are quintessential. Especially when meeting guests who have travelled all the way from Jotunheim."

Sif grimaced in return, pushing her annoying hair back behind her ear, "Yes, mother…"

Looking across, she caught Thor puffing up his broad chest in laughter. "You must behave well too," Odin spoke to Thor without taking his eye off the large metal doors across from them. The ornately carved golden doors, wearing the Sigel of the house of Odin and images of all nine realms, opened up slowly. They revealed two Jotun males being led in by two Einherjar, proceeded to take their stations at the foot of the stairs leading up to the throne. The guests looked peculiar in the heavily gold room, with their blue skin etched with runes, and markings of rank and powers. Though foreign, they both wore the garbs common to Asgard in deference of the eternal realm's customs, though it looked off and especially uncomfortable on the younger one.

Sif's interest piqued at the sight of the younger guest, who appeared to be only a little older than her. His inky hair was greased back slightly unevenly in a way that suggested that he was unaccustomed to the process, and he kept tugging his trousers up, trying his best to blend in with his guardian. There was something innocent about him, and yet… Sif marveled at the strangely thin young man when his sharp ruby eyes zeroed in on her. His lips quirked up slightly, and he raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, a sudden sense of arrogance oozing from his gaze. Stifling a laugh, she returned the gesture only to have him reveal his pearly white teeth to her with mirth.

The man gruffly pushed the youth's upper back, forcing him to bow down in sync with his guardian.

"King Laufey sends his thanks for your willingness to house our precious prince in the eternal kingdom's heart," the man spoke stiffly, nose slightly scrunched up as he scrutinized the group of guards who had their hands readily on their spears, seemingly awaiting a misstep.

"It is a privilege to house and help the young prince in his pursuit to learn foreign forms of seior. It is a courageous desire, and courage is greatly esteemed among our people. Not many men have the desire to learn the feminine craft, especially when born into such a high station. Therefore the Queen herself has volunteered to teach you, Prince Loki."

Loki, who had been exchanging flirtatious looks with the princess, snapped his attention over to the Queen, and slightly bowed his head in gratitude. He looked at his companion expectantly for a couple moments, before his companion nodded at last. Taking a deep breath, Loki stepped forward and addressed the royal family, "I want to thank you all from the deepest recesses of my heart for the magnificent opportunity. I know that it is a great burden to house the son of a hostile realm, but I will do my very best to thank you for your hospitality in any way you see fit, and I most certainly will not forget your kindness once the throne falls to me." He bowed briefly, before pursing his lips again.

"My father sends his kindest regards to the Allmother." Suppressing a wicked grin, he looked at the girl, and stepped back into line with the ambassador.

Odin grunted, straightening up a little, and casting a furious glance at Frigga.

"Thank you for your words, Prince Loki." A newly hardened edge appeared in his voice, "Please feel free to leave your charge with us ambassador Helbindi. We shall take good care of King Laufey's progeny. You are dismissed."

With one last bow, the ambassador left the room hurriedly, trying not to look at the bloodthirsty guards.

"Can I go talk to him now?" Sif asked Frigga, throwing her tresses back, away from her face, yet again.

Frigga nodded and immediately Sif made a dash for it, picking up her skirts with practiced ease as she ran down the stairs, and stopped right in front of him. "Loki, right?"

He nodded, startled by the eager aesir female with unnaturally bright hair.

"I'm Princess Sif, but I would prefer it if you call me Sif. I do not like the word princess. It makes me think of too many flouncy, scratchy garments, as well as an assortment of stiff, stuffy individuals…"

"I suppose you must hate that dress then…" he pointed out, looking directly at a thick red patch on her forearm.

"Indeed…" she spoke, turning her head to look at it, giving him an opportunity to catch a discrete glimpse of her bosom. "I need a break from all this decorum, so I shall take you on a tour of the palace grounds. Come quickly, lest I change my mind." She hurried off immediately, only turning once to check whether he was following or not.

A surprised smile surfaced on his lips. He hurried after her, glad to have finally found someone who was just as strange and eccentric as himself.


End file.
